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THEWELLu. >PUBLISWING-Co \ 
G?S BROADWAY 



THE ELITE LIBRARY 



FIRST VOLUME 

MINON! A Tale of Love and Intrigue 

By Frederick W. Pearson 
SECOND VOLUME 

EUGENIA.; A FRIEND'S Victim 

By Alton Jfurlba ( IV. P. H.) 



THIRD VOLUME 

An Idyl of Bar Harbor. A Poem 

By Frederick W. Pearson 



THE ELITE LIBRARY. ^\ .^^ 



AN IDYL 



BAR HARBOR 



FREDERICK W. PEARSON 



Ti\ OF CG^^T^ 

( Jill. 17 188^ / 

'^-- ^0190 

NEW YORK 

THE WELLES PUBLISHING COMPANY 

695 Broadway 



Y'o'^ 






COPYRIGHT, 1888, 

BY F. W. PEARSON 

{All rights reserved.) 



THIS POEM 

IS INSCRIBED TO 

MISS NANNIE GARNETT EMORY 

AS A MEMENTO OF 

THE AUTHOR'S GREAT REGARD 
AND HIGH ESTEEM 



Hn IFb^l of Bar H^aibor. 



A ROMANTIC POEM 



Canto fmt 



EVENING. 



lEpcning. 



I. 

Afloat upon a sea of liquid gold, 
'Mid isles of puffy clouds whose snowy white 
Is blended with the splendor round about, 
The stately sun at eve sails Westward ho! 
The mountain peaks grow rosy red anon. 
The waters in the bay like glass are smooth, 
And seem a duplicate of that bright sea 
From which they borrow every subtle charm. 
The billows, rolling restlessly beyond, 
Display a myriad hosts of diamonds; 
And every drop of spray converted is 
Into a jewel rare of brilliant hue, 
Contrasting with the oceanic blue. 

II. 

All still and quiet seems God's pleasant earth, 
And never hath it been more beautiful ; 
But yet all signs of life are not extinct, 
For yonder sails upon its broad-spread wings. 
With graceful sweep and perfect poise, a hawk ; 



12 An Idyl 

While here a snow-white gull flies rapidly; 
And from yon rock a score of petrels rise. 
But more in numbers and in size more huge, 
And most uncertain in their movements, are 
The boats, canoes, the yachts and ships afloat 
Upon the bosom of the slumb'ring bay; 
For every able-bodied guest, methinks, 
From all Bar Harbor's well-stocked summer 

homes, 
Is out to revel in the splendor bright, 
As dying day gives birth to infant night. 

III. 

And many barks are ladened happily 
With merry parties, adding cheer and life 
To this most gorgeous scene of splendid calm. 
Anon a rippling stream of laughter comes, 
Soft floating on the balmy breath of heaven ; 
And then, perchance, a pleasing strain of song ; 
While frequently is heard a steamer's whur. 
But these stray sounds break not the magic 

spell 
Of mystic charm far more than words can tell. 

IV. 

But let us pass these partisans of mirth; 

For, though it please us oft to note the warmth 



of Bar Harbor. 13 

Of youth's light-heartedness and manhood's 

wit, 
There is a time when quiet thoughtfuhiess 
Befits more happily the passing hour; 
And such an hour, methinks, is eventide. 
Then let us note yon solitary man • 
Within his light canoe, which easy strokes 
Propel with gentle speed and noiselessly. 
He lingers not amidst the restless fleet, 
But paddles far where billows roll and swell ; 
Where solitude invites the weary mind. 
And lonely hearts a painful pleasure find. 

V. 

When lo! a soft sweet strain of melody 
Comes faintly, like a stray and wand'ring song 
An angel might have breathed while passing 

by. 
It ceases; then he paddles on once more. 
Until, abreast a jutting point of land. 
He sees a dainty maiden sitting lone. 
Her fingers lightly draw from singing strings 
Delicious harmonies and melodies; 
And as he pauses, half unconsciously, 
To feast his hungry soul with these soft sounds, 
She looks on him and smiling sweetly, says : — 
" O lonely mortal, whither goest thou ? 



14 All Idyl 

Thy boat is small ; the ocean's waves run 

high, 
And darkness soon on half the earth will lie." 



VI. 

Before Lenado — for his name is such — 
Can frame reply, the maiden's voice he hears 
As she breathes forth in soothing strains this 
song: 

I. 

Ah, stay with me, 

I love but thee ; 
I long to rest upon thy breast; 

And I can tell 

Where pleasures dwell, 
Beyond the reach of mortal quest. 



So close thine eyes 

And Paradise 
Will greet thy sight before the night 

Shall pass away. 

And dawning day 
Reveals to man its pleasing light. 



of Bar Harbor. 15 

3. 

For I'm a maid 

Of whom 'tis said, 
Her subtle charm doth bring no harm. 

So billows swell ; 

And sleep thou well, 
For I give thee my soothing balm. 

VII. 

And as she pauses, lo ! he sweetly sleeps, 
The rolling billows rocking quietly 
His frail canoe, while golden streams of light 
Transform him, seemingly, into a god. 
And as he sleeps he fondly dreams of love. 
And sees before him radiant maiden forms — 
Clad only in the mermaid's clinging robes 
Of sea-weed, — dancing, rollicking at will 
Upon the rolling surface of the sea. 
And all are wondrous fair to look upon ; 
And all are young; and all unconscious seem 
That mortal man intrudes within their sphere. 
But when, anon, the sun sinks in the West, 
And they more brightly beam as it departs. 
They gather 'round the drifting, lost canoe 
And seem enraptured with the sleeping man, 
They lightly rest upon the dainty bark. 
And though a score or more in numbers, still 



1 6 An Idyl 

Their weight is nothing and the boat drifts on 
Unchecked, obedient only to the tide. 
Some gather 'round his locks of raven black, 
Contrasting them with their own tresses 

blonde ; 
Some drink sweet nectar from his healthful 

lips, 
Or vainly try to ope his closed eyes; 
Some fain to slumber on his heaving breast, 
And listen wond'ringly to each heart-beat. 
But others seem content to feast their eyes, 
And stand upon the nearest billow's top, 
And blend their voices in sweet harmony. 
Lenado seems to see and seems to feel 
Each pretty form, each gentle touch, and 

through 
His heart sensations pleasing thrill and bound — ■ 
But still he slumbers quietly and sound. 

VIII. 
When lo! there is a far and distant blast. 
As though some god breathed forth a trumpet 

call ; 
And every maiden instantly responds 
With loud and welcome songs of jubilee. 
They leave Lenado and his frail canoe, 
And speed across the waters, till there is 



of Bar Harbor. 1 7 

A line of brightness reaching e'en the spot 
Where sea and sky are blended. Then there 

comes, 
Upon the breath of infant night, this song: — 

I. 
We give thee welcome, Queen of Night ; 
We love thy pure and silv'ry light ; 
We bow in humbleness of mien 
To our beloved and gentle Queen. 

2. 

It is our custom, thou dost know, 
Upon thy coming to bestow 
Whatever we have chanced to see, 
Which will of value be to thee. 

3. 
And while this eve we danced and sung. 
And from the golden sunbeams hung, 
We saw this mortal, fearlessly 
Asleep upon the rolling sea. 

4. 
And now we offer him, O Queen — 
A gift more rare has never been — 
To please thy fancy; give delight 
To thee throughout this peaceful night. 



l8 An Idyl 

IX. 

And as they cease, the queen's sweet smiling 

face 
Arises 'bove the waters in that spot 
To which the hne of mermaids seems to reach. 
Her silv'ry lustre bathes the peaceful sea; 
Adorns each wave with myriad diamonds ; 
Fills all the air with mystic, magic charm, 
Transforming prosy earth into a world 
Of rare poetic beauty, love and peace. 
She gazes on the sleeping mortal's face; 
Observes its lines of nobleness and woe, 
And feels compassion, as she reads his past. 
" Wake not this dreamer," she begins, " for he 
Has walked a rough and stony path in life. 
He loves, O Mermaids, one of many charms, 
Whose heart is cold to all his pleading words. 
She revels thoughtlessly in dance and play 
Within the social halls of yonder town. 
While he, with breaking heart, has sought to 

dull 
The pangs of unrequited love in this 
Far distant spot of quiet loneliness. 
And here my handmaid. Sleep, hath given him 
Her soothing balm to rest his troubled mind. 
Then wake him not ; but gather 'round me 

here, 



of Bar Harbor. 19 

And list, for I've a plan for sport to-night. 
Lenado, as he sleeps, looks not unlike 
A god, his face so wondrous handsome is; 
And we'll make use of his unhappy love 
To give us sport, and will repay it well 
By making all things right at early dawn." 
Now she dispatches her most trusty page, 
Well weighted with her duties to perform — 
Lenado resting still in perfect calm. 



Canto Secoiab. 



MIDNIGHT. 



fUMbnigbt 



I. 

The wztltz is over. Edith stands alone, 

And gazes wistfully into the night. 

Her cheeks are flushed from dancing, and her 

heart 
Is longing for a face she may not see 
Among the merry men at Rodick's Ball — 
A face more handsome far than any here. 
In fancy now she sees the pleading look 
Which filled his eyes, and hears his trembling 

voice 
As he besought her, oh, so tenderly! 
To be his bride and fill his life with joy. 
And she refused him coldly, heartlessly. 
But yet she loves him ; yea, she even now 
Is wond'ring where her lover may have gone, 
For surely she had seen him all alone 
Within his frail canoe at sunset time; 
But now 'tis close to midnight, yet he stays 
She knows not where and fears some accident. 



24 An Idyl 

She sees the moon's pale, placid face, and 

thinks : — 
" O thou, the lover's friend time out of mind, 
Seek out Lenado, wheresoe'er he be. 
And tell him that my sorrow knows no bounds, 
Remembering my cruel heartlessness. 
Tell him, O Queen, I love him ; love him more 
Than ever maiden loved. And, O pale moon, 
If he is safe and still has love for me. 
Pray show a sign that I may feel less pain ; 
That I may hope he'll come to me again." 

11. 

Now long and dreamily she lets her eyes 
Roam restlessly among the heavenly orbs. 
While ever tender thoughts pass through her 

mind 
And stir her heart with pangs of self-reproach. 
When lo ! a falling star attracts her gaze. 
And she exclaims — " He thinks, he thinks of 

me! 
Oh, would I were a spirit of the night, 
On noiseless wings to take my rapid flight, 
That I might join him, wheresoe'er he be, 
On land, on bay or on the rolling sea. 
For I to him my love would fain impart. 
And lay before his feet my broken heart." 



of Ba7' Harbor. 25 

III. 

As thus she speaks, as though a captive held 
In some strange trance, unheedful where she 

steps, 
She seeks the rocky shore, where boist'rous 

waves 
Leap joyfully and seem to welcome her. 
Unconscious how she came, yet full aware 
Of where she is, she pushes swiftly on 
Along the stony beach, 'round jutting points, 
Until she sits exhausted on a rock. 
Which guards the entrance to a gloomy cave. 
The ocean waves, all sparkling with the rays 
Of that fair queen who rules and sways its tides, 
Break savagely upon the rugged cliffs. 
And fling vast clouds of spray into the air; 
While some, more mighty, roll resistlessly 
Into the yawning cavern dark and deep. 
And shake its huge foundations ; wake its store 
Of deep-mouthed echoes by their thunder roar. 

IV. 
The pale moon smiles as she beholds the maid, 
Whose heart she has thus passionately brought 
To feel the pangs of keen and deep remorse ; 
And seemeth pleased, for all doth promise well. 
But Edith notes the constant rolling sea, 



26 All Idyl 

And feels her love more tender, evermore 
She sighs and prays, then prays and sighs again. 
At length, half dreamily, she lifts her voice 
In invocation to the spirits blest, 
Which lie within the bosom of the sea. 

" Roll, roll, roll. 

Ye waves of mighty ocean; 
Roll, roll, roll, 

Proclaiming my devotion ; 
For as ye roll eternally, 

Ye monster spirits of the sea, 
E'en so my heart beats fervently 

For one I fear is lost to me." 

Then drops her head upon her heaving breast, 
And she remains in silent, peaceful rest. 

V. 
A gentle breeze with dainty touch doth kiss 
The sleeping lips which breathed those words 

of love; 
And flying swiftly o'er the billowy waves, 
It lightly plays about Lenado's lips, 
Transmitting all the sweetness of those words 
Into his slumbering mind ; whereat he says. 
As one doth often speak while slumbering: — 



of Bar Harbo7^. 27 

" Blow, blow, blow, 

Ye winds with sweetness laden; 
Blow, blow, blow, 

To her, my lovely maiden; 
And tell her truly, gentle wind. 

That peace at length doth fill my mind, 
For, though on earth she is unkind, 

In Heaven her pleasure I will find." 

VI. 

Now soundly, yea more soundly still he sleeps, 
And she upon the rocky shore likewise ; 
While from her throne the queen looks down 

and smiles 
Alike on each heart-broken suppliant. 
When both, as by one impulse stirred, breathe 

forth. 
Unknown to one another, these fond words: — 

" Love, love, love. 

Rule thou my life forever; 
Love, love, love, 

Ah leave, ah leave me never; 
For all dark clouds which bring me woe, 

By thy warm light are made to glow 
With heavenly lustre, none may know 

Without thine aid in earth below." 



28 All Idyl 

VII. 

And now in sweet oblivion each is lost ; 
While stronger blows the chilly midnight wind 
To waft Lenado's craft toward the beach. 
And higher rises now the ocean's tide 
About the rock whereon the maiden sleeps. 
It penetrates into the dark'ning cave, 
And ever louder roars more threat'ningly. 
Its foamy crests now break about her feet, 
As she, unconscious, rests in peacefulness; 
Sometimes the whitened spray doth wet her 

dress, 
And often show'rs her hand, so soft and white. 
At length there comes a billow monstrous high, 
With rumbling roar and seething, foaming 

flood. 
It sparkles in the silv'ry light as though 
It were a king of billows, crowned with gems, 
And girt on every side by countless hordes — 
A mighty army- — come to storm the land. 
And break the power of rock and stony beach 
Upon the shallows, lo ! with victory. 
It strikes; then leaps with speed unchecked 
Toward the rock which guards the cavern's 

mouth. 
Unable now to move this sentinel. 
Much angered, yet unbroken, on it rides — 



of Ba7' Harbo7\ 29 

With Edith taken captive — to the cave, 

Where all its fearful magnitude of power 

Is centred in one final effort bold. 

On, on, it goes with speed as great as though 

A half the unbound ocean lay before. 

Its husky voice each moment louder grows ; 

Its seething flood fills all the air with spray; 

When lo ! with awful shock it strikes the rocks. 

The earth now trembles ; e'en the cavern's sides 

Do seem to sway; while on the midnight air 

The voice of thunder penetrates as far 

As to the limits of eternity. 

But not a rock doth fall, and with that roar 

The monster billow's power is spent and gone. 

Shame-faced it cowers back into the sea, 

And hides its head beneath the coming crests 

Of other billows doomed to like defeat. 

And as the cave the victory hath won. 

It claims all spoils with which the billow came, 

And consequently holds the trembling form 

Of Edith, frightened much, but free from harm. 

VIII. 
For many moments she unconscious lies, 
Still wrapt in that oblivion known as sleep. 
The waves about her roar and toss their spray 
Upon her placid face, yet wakes she not. 



30 An Idyl 

The deep-mouthed echoes of the cave are 

stirred 
And often shake the very rocks, so great 
Their power is; but still she slumbers sweet. 
A darkness, black as unlit midnight, reigns 
Within this foul, unholy resting-place; 
But lo! about the maiden as she sleeps 
A strange, unearthly glow may now be seen. 
Her face with untold beauty it illumes; 
It magnifies her stature many folds; 
And gathers 'bout her head, as though a 

cloud 
Of golden splendor crowned her loveliness. 
These transformations wake her not ; but she 
Arises, standing like a stately queen. 
And, though still sleeping, mistress of the 

scene. 

IX. 

When lo! a frail canoe, all made of gold 
Apparently, rides in upon the crests 
Of billowy waves, all white with boiling foam. 
It passes swiftly by the standing form 
Of sleeping Edith unobserved, and strikes 
With gentle force the farthest distant point 
Within the blackness of this gloomy cave. 
It quickly overturns, depositing 



of Ba7' Harbor. 31 

Its royal cargo on the dripping rocks; 
And then as swiftly makes a sure retreat 
Upon the billows suffering defeat. 

X. 

Lenado, thus bereft of his canoe 

And waking suddenly, doth find himself 

Apparently alone within the cave. 

He, too, is crowned with clouds of brilliancy, 

Which, also, change his physiognomy, 

Transforming him into a mighty god 

Of vast proportions, grand and beautiful. 

He is awake, but knoweth not that he 

Is aught but poor Lenado, sad of heart; 

And, leaning 'gainst the dripping rocks, he 

sighs. 
And wonders how he came into the cave ; 
Bemoans the loss of his unfriendly boat ; 
Recalls his dreams of mermaids, fair and 

kind. 
And, longing eagerly to dream again. 
He drops his head upon his rocky bed. 
By some strange chance his eye-s fell not 

upon 
The other inmate of this weird abode; 
And so he sleeps again, not twenty feet 
From her, whose love he did so oft entreat. 



32 An Idyl of Bar Harbor. 

XL 
And now the water rises higher still, 
And gurgles 'bout the feet of Edith, as 
Most statue-like she stands unconsciously. 
As one will often walk in sleep and shun 
Some danger threat'ning, so she onward steps 
Before the ever-rising salty tide. 
At length she reaches where Lenado sleeps, 
And, noting not his presence, doth recline 
Upon the self-same rock whereon he lies. 
Removed from him by not the breadth of one 
Of her most white and dainty little hands. 
Thus side by side they rest, while wave on wave 
Comes thund'ring in this most romantic cave. 



(Tanto Zbkb. 



MORNING. 



horning* 



I. 

And now it chanced an old and snowy owl — 
Who had for countless years inhabited 
This cavern wild, and who this night had been 
Abroad for food and bold, adventurous sport — 
Returning, saw the fair intruders, bathed 
In light so strong it pained his gloomy eyes. 
" In sooth," quoth he, " a most unhallowed spot 
For maid so fair and man so brave to rest. 
Unhappy fates indeed must persecute 
The human heart, if lovers needs must seek 
Such unpropitious rendezvous as this. 
And rightly think they none may here intrude 
To break the magic spell of mutual love. 
But I will seat me here upon this ledge 
And thus gain knowledge in the mystic lore." 
And so he silently doth watch and wait ; 
But soon impatient grows as neither moves. 
"Alas," quoth he, " they are exhausted both, 
And sleep oblivious holds perfect sway; 
Or else some stupefying spell deprives 



36 All Idyl 

Their guilty minds of power to know their joy. 
But I will wake them, if, perchance, I may." 
And suiting now the action to the thought, 
He screeches wildly, stirring echoes which 
E'en thund'ring waves unable were to rouse. 
Much like the cry a spirit damned might breathe 
When doing penance for a sin-cursed life, 
Did sound the awful screech of this foul bird. 
And lo ! the lovers wake with frightful shock, 
And, trembling, stand upright upon their bed 
Of jagged rock; and staring wond'ringly 
Each in the other's face, yet knowing not 
On whom they gaze, for still the magic spell 
Doth mask their features, all, alas, too well. 

11. 

She looks on him and sees a splendid god. 

More fair than ever maiden's eyes beheld; 

And he beholds in her a vision rare 

Of queenly beauty never known before 

All speechless, breathless, wondering they 

stand. 
Forgetful wholly of their former loves; 
Forgetting everything except the wild, 
Ungoverned passion in their hearts, 
And are about to seek a warm embrace. 
When lo ! the owl, unable to restrain 



of Bar Harbor. 37 

His feelings, cries aloud: — "For shame! for 

shame ! " 
Whereat they pause and each remembers then 
That other heart for which each heart doth 

ache. 
The rock whereon they stand no larger is 
Than well to hold two human forms, and 'round 
Its base the angry waves both boil and foam; 
So they must needs in close proximity 
Await the end of this fatality. 

III. 

And so the night wears on, each watching each, 
And ever stronger grows this new-born love; 
While yet the voice of duty doth forbid. 
" O kindly Fates," at length the maiden cries, 
" Take from mine eyes this vision tempting me. 
O take me far from this unholy spot ; 
Unchain my heart from these new bonds of love ; 
Befriend thy child, O Fate, for yonder god 
Doth chain my every thought, my very soul." 
Like music sounds her voice upon his ear, 
And charms him, till he doth forget again 
His fair fond Edith whom he did adore. 
And burning with a love ungovernable, 
He flings himself before her feet and cries: — 
" O queenly vision, pure and beautiful ! 



o 



8 An Idyl 



O radiant maiden termed to please a god! 

angel from a better world than this! 
Confide to me thy tender, loving heart, 
And let us drink this cup our lips do touch." 

" Nay, nay ! " cries she. " Begone and tempt 
me not. 

1 am not free, my heart I may not give. 

Ah! pray begone; take thou thine eyes from 

me." 
But he more ardent grows at this repulse, 
And breathes a sigh of pain, so real and deep, 
That she is moved and feels so- drawn to him 
That she unconsciously doth nearer step. 
Quite mad with passion, now, he gains his feet, 
And whispers gently in her eager ear: — 
" Thou can'st not longer bid me pause, O come ! 
One more repulse would drive me mad indeed." 
And she, as wildly passionate as he, 
Resisting not, forgetting thus again 
Her duty stern, doth smile a sweet consent. 
And he, as quick as thought, doth stretch his 

arms 
To there enfold her, when the owl once more 
Breathes forth his warning. " Shame ! for 

shame ! " says he, 
When lo ! they separate immediately. 



of Bar Harbor. , 39 

Exhausted now they sink upon the rocks, 
Their hearts by wild, conflicting passions 

stirred; 
Their minds at work to reason with their 

hearts. 
And furtively their eyes are wandering 
About the gloomy and malarious cave. 
From every jagged point the water drops, 
And all the hollows of the rocks are filled 
With water, while the waves still roar and leap, 
Although not now as fiercely as before, 
Because the tide has turned and slowly ebbs. 
The captive lovers note this change of tide, 
And also mark a line of rosy red 
Upon the distant horizon, as seen 
From through the cavern's amply yawning 

moutli. 
And though they feel relieved to think escape 
Will soon be possible, still loath are they 
To put aside this new-born ardent love. 
They see each other not, nor speak a word. 
And yet their sympathy of feeling seems 
Uniting them as though their hearts were one. 
And thus the morning slowly dawns, while 

they 
All silently both watch and wait, and pray. 



40 An Idyl 

V. 

And now the sun arises from the sea, 
A flaming ball of deepest crimson, girt 
By brilliant clouds in odd, fantastic shapes. 
The placid moon has now no mystic spell. 
And night's enchantment flies as day appears. 
Where dreamy shadows clothed romantic spots, 
All now stands out in naked bold relief. 
And, likewise, as the day draws nigh, the charm, 
Which so bewitched the lovers, doth depart 
And leaves them able now to see aright. 
And yet the memory of bitter-sweet. 
Of painful joy, which filled their hearts with 

woe, 
Remains to haunt them as an evil dream. 
Although the waters have departed now. 
And left the pathway clear toward the beach. 
Still move they not, for each doth fear to gaze 
Upon the other's face, lest once again 
They should be tempted by the power of love. 
And yet their hearts are warmed by longings 

deep. 
As silently they watch and wait and weep. 

VI. 

Ere long, as by one impulse stirred, they rise, 
And boldly gaze each on the other's face. 



of Bar Harbor. 41 

The charm has fled, and Edith now beholds 
Lenado's wan and troubled countenance; 
As he in turn doth see his fair, fond love, 
With trembling form and pale as pallid death. 
The smallest part of half a second they, 
In ecstasy resembling heavenly bliss, 
In wonder look each in the other's eyes. 
And now, restraint all gone and fear all fled, 
Their duty and their passion seeming blent, 
The owl unfit to see in broad daylight. 
They fall into each other's arms and weep 
A world of pent-up feelings, tenderly 
And thankfully repeating words of love. 
Oblivious, now, they rest in perfect peace. 
All sorrow gone, all joys to but increase, 

VII. 

How many hours thus flew away, who knows ? 
Suffice it then to say, that ere the tide 
Again rose high, before the sun had reached 
Its zenith, they, with tardy, faltering steps. 
She resting heavily upon his arm, 
He walking proudly, beaming with delight. 
In safety reached the stony beach; where lo ! 
A mass of frightened people met their gaze. 
For truth to tell the news was widely spread 
That Edith and Lenado both were lost. 



A2 An Idyl 

And when, thus arm in arm, they do approach, 
Their garments soaked with salty brine, and 

yet 
Unharmed and flushed with happiness, the joy 
Of these enraptured guests doth know no 

bounds. 
Some shout and cheer; some weep in unre- 
straint ; 
Some fling their caps into the air and scream; 
Some stand in utter, blank amazement, and 
With difficulty realize the truth. 
And when the first astonishment has fled, 
They gather 'round this most romantic pair, 
And eagerly demand a full account 
Of how and where they spent the night. But 

not 
A word escapes their lips, as slowly they 
Press through the curious and baffled throng. 
And murmurs of distrust and scorn are heard, 
As these old gossips find themselves outdone; 
While many surmise this ; imagine that ; 
And pass opinion on these reckonings 
Before they know if right or wrong they judge. 
But when a wedding is announced, ere long, 
And all the tale is known to old and young. 
There's not a man or woman, boy or maid, 
So wanting sentiment as to complain. 



of Bar Harbor. 43 

And ne'er before did bride receive such gifts 
Of costly rare magnificence and worth ; 
No wedding ever yet attended was 
By such a numerous and kindly host ; 
And seldom has there been a happier pair 
Launched forth into the very life of lives — 
He best of men, and she the best of wives. 



FINIS. 



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